The Gift of Christmas
by OptimisticGirl
Summary: In a town full of magic there was one thing Emma Jones didn't have that she wanted - Christmas. Leave it to her pirate husband to bring the most magical season of all to their sleepy little town for her. [Holiday one shot for my Gutter Flower SS] [Set in future canon after the Underworld arc] [Doesn't contain any spoilers!] [Side order of some Captain Cobra feels]


He started to notice it the first year after the Camelot and Underworld crisis, when life in Storybrooke seemed to settle down - greedy pirate lords and insane Agrabah sorcerers who tried to take over the world, aside.

Around the time the leaves began to change and the wind acquired its yearly nip that forced the residents of Storybrooke into thick jackets and hats, Emma's mood would shift. It was subtle in the beginning - the way she would awake in high spirits but be withdrawn by the time she arrived home from the station or how she would avoid playing entire sections of the moving picture box while staring at them longingly. One year while they had been chasing the Merry Men - who had been turned into animated garden gnomes courtesy of Neal's new, unpredictable magic - he had seen her pause mid chase, green eyes firmly set on a large pine tree. It had only lasted a second but he had recognized that glazed look, the one that spoke of a distant memory haunting you. He had stared back at it over countless centuries aboard his ship when every plank of wood held a memory of Liam and Milah.

The next winter, seven months after he had dropped to his knee aboard his ship and asked her to be his happy ending forever, she changed how she smelled for the last month of the year. Emma had always smelled of vanilla and cinnamon, fragrances so wrapped around her that all he had to do was catch the scent of it on the breeze and he knew she was coming. But one night she had crawled into bed, freshly showered, and the scent of a tropical breeze had overpowered him as she snuggled into his side. He had asked her why the change in her bath scents, not missing the instant stilling of her body against his before she mumbled something about needing to be reminded of summer right now.

He hadn't pressed the issue, knowing she would divulge whatever was bothering her in her own time.

Quietly he had inquired to Mary Margaret and Henry about her odd behavior. Neither of them knew why the last month altered Emma's mood. In fact, it wasn't until he pointed it out that they even noticed anything was amiss with their mother and daughter. Both of them went about finding out what was wrong in their own way - Mary Margaret broaching the subject over wine while Henry nonchalantly pointed out some of his mother's odder quirks - but Emma had simply smiled at both of them, not able to fully hide the sadness in those green depths as she told them it was nothing.

Killian kept an eye out though, noticing more and more with each passing year until he could no longer sit back and wait for her to explain it to him. Two weeks into December, four months after they had promised to love each other for the rest of their lives while surrounded by family and friends, he found her on their couch. He had been out in the shed working on the finishing touches of his and Henry's latest project - a wooden ship replica of the Jolly Roger - and as the hour was close to midnight, he had expected to find her already snuggled in their large four poster bed, snoring away. Instead she was curled into the corner of the couch, the magical box's light casting her in silver hues as she stared at the images on its glass. He started to point out that she told Henry not to watch the box in the dark when she must have sensed his presence, her hand quickly coming up to wipe at her cheeks.

His heart had sank. Why was she sitting in their living room, alone, and crying?

"Swan, what's going on?"

"Nothing," she replied, trying to mask the roughness of her voice as she straightened from the ball she had been curled into. "Just watching some TV until I get sleepy."

He didn't need her super power to know she was lying to him. Sitting down next to her but still giving her space, he leaned back into the couch, fingers fidgeting on his thigh.

"You and I both know that isn't the truth, love." When she continued to stare straight ahead at the box he sighed deeply. "Emma, talk to me."

He watched her bite her lip, hands tightening around the cushion in her lap as she clearly warred with old instincts to shut him out. He breathed an internal sigh of relief when she started to speak.

"Did you have Christmas in the Enchanted Forest?"

He frowned at the unfamiliar word, eyebrows knitting as he searched his extensive memory for it. "I don't believe so. What is it?"

"It's-" she paused, clearly trying to find words that he would understand. "It's a holiday or celebration, if you will. It has a long history, most of which I don't even pretend to know but nowadays it's celebrated by giving presents to those you love on a certain day."

"Like we do for Henry and your brother's birthdays?"

He took it as a good sign when a small smile pulled at her lips. "Yeah but it's…" She shifted then, turning so her back rested against the arm of the couch, legs stretching in front of her and hesitating for only a moment before she rested her feet on his thigh. Sensing she needed contact of some kind he placed his hand on one of her feet, thumb rubbing along her arch in gentle encouragement to continue.

"It's so much more than that," she finally said, resting her head along the back of the couch as she watched his fingers move along her foot. "It's about the ornaments and garland, stockings and the lights in the tree-"

"Why in the devil would you put those glasses of sunlight on a tree in the forest?"

"They're called light bulbs, Killian," she teased, another small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she looked up at him. "But they aren't the same as the ones we use to light the house - they're smaller and come in different colors. Besides, you don't decorate an entire forest, just the tree inside the house."

That gave him pause, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. "So you mean to tell me that you bring the bloody tree inside? Why?"

Emma laughed, the joyous sound warming his heart as it always did. "I think it's going to be easier if I show you."

Reaching behind her she picked up her talking device off the end table, fingers flying across the screen as she scooted to sit next to him. He sat quietly as she explained about decorating for this Christmas holiday, showing him pictures as she went over each new item. Hanging stockings over a fireplace seemed wrong to him - " _They're meant to keep your feet warm, Swan, not the fireplace"_ \- but there were some adorable ones. He couldn't help but smirk when she showed him a picture of something called a candy cane, eyebrow quirking as he wiggled his hook which was in the same shape as the Christmas candy. The tree still baffled him but as she swiped through pictures of them in enchanting colors of red, green, blue, and silver he had to admit they were stunning to look at.

He didn't know how long they sat there as she talked about special ornaments, stars that didn't come from the sky atop the tree, and some big man in a red suit but this was the happiest he had seen her during this time of year, and he was reluctant to break the spell that had been weaved in their living room. It wasn't until her fingers moved along the glass of her talking device, a picture of some inflatable Santa replaced with an item he did recognize.

Eyes lighting with recognition he reached to hold the device steady. "That's mistletoe!"

Emma looked at him in surprise. "You know what this is?"

"Aye," he answered, blue eyes glued to the image of the greenery. "It's generally a sprig back in our land but at Yuletide we'd hang them from the doorways for good luck."

Emma frowned. "Yuletide?"

"It was a celebration during the winter solstice where you exchanged gifts, usually in thanks for something someone did for you that year. The vast majority of a kingdom would also present their King with gifts in hope of a peaceful year to come."

"Killian!" Emma exclaimed, tossing her talking device to the far end of the couch before practically bouncing to her knees, hands grasping his leather jacket. "That's like Christmas!"

He shook his head, momentarily thrown off by the excitement he saw radiating from her eyes. "Not really, Swan. The gift giving part is similar to what you described happens on this Christmas but there's no decorations of any kind, aside from the mistletoe. It's mainly spent dancing and drinking a lot to combat the longest night of the year."

"Oh."

His heart sank as the joy instantly fled from her eyes and he rushed to right the situation as she settled back beside him, once again drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs.

"Swan, whatever I said-"

"It's nothing, Killian."

"But it is," he said firmly, refusing to let her go one more day without telling him what exactly made her sad during this time of year. "Love, I've noticed for awhile now that as we enter into the last month of the year you get… well, you become very melancholic." Turning so he could place his hand on her arm he asked, "Does it have to do with this Christmas?"

Emma nodded and he could see that faraway look come into her jade eyes. "Everyone knows about Santa and as a kid, you expect to wake up Christmas morning to find presents from him under the tree. Only, that doesn't happen when you grow up in the foster system." Her sad smile made his heart clench. "Every year I wrote Santa with a list of what I wanted and every Christmas morning I awoke to none of it - no easy bake oven or the newest barbie doll, no coloring books or even a new jacket. There were a few years where the foster parents gave us a packet of Starburst but that was it."

She sniffled then and he squeezed her arm in comfort as her eyes filled with tears.

"And although there was never any presents for me under the tree, there was always the decorations. I could always count on them every year and it never made up for there being no presents but it- it was _something_." A single tear fell down her cheek and he reached up to push a lock of hair behind her ear. "There's nothing like the sight of a Christmas tree sparkling at night or the smells. God, the smells, Killian. Apples and cinnamon, pine trees and candy canes - it's just _there_. It sounds stupid but for a brief time each year-"

"It was like you hadn't been abandoned if you had them."

She turned to look at him with a sad smile. "Because everyone else had always abandoned me."

"Oh, Swan," he mumbled, pulling her to his chest and wrapping his arms around her. She came willingly, burying her face in his dark dress shirt as her shoulders shook from her sobs. He hated this. He knew Emma's upbringing had been hard and she had missed out on so much but this wasn't about what she hadn't had as a child - this was about what she didn't have now, as an adult. These Christmas decorations had been her only solace in childhood and because Regina hadn't known of this world's customs when she created the curse, she hadn't included it.

And Emma had come here, to a town now full of magic, and they didn't even have the one thing she had counted on for all those years.

When her sobs had subsided he tilted her head up with the curve of his hook, thumb moving to wipe away at the tears staining her cheeks. She looked so vulnerable in a way he had never seen before, even when she had been cradling him after stabbing him with Excalibur.

"It'll be okay, love," he mummered, "We'll just bring Christmas to Storybrooke."

Before he had even finished his sentence she was shaking her head. "No, Killian, we can't."

"Swan I'm sure it's just a matter of-"

"We don't know if we can safely cross the townline," she pointed out, "And it's not worth risking someone's life to simply sate my childhood nostalgia."

"Aye," he conceded, "But we do have magic-"

Emma shook her head again. "I don't want my parents to feel bad when I have to explain what Christmas is and why it's so important for me to start poofing decorations around town. Besides, I don't want to make everyone in Storybrooke celebrate it just for me."

He sighed. "Emma…"

Cupping his face gently, she gave him a small smile. "It's okay, Killian. Really. I have all I need with you, Henry, and my parents and that's all that matters."

He hadn't pushed the subject knowing how stubborn the woman he loved could be but later that night as he lay awake in bed, a sleeping Emma curled to his side, he couldn't get the image of her as a little girl surrounded by Christmas decorations out of his mind. More so, the knowledge that she had been deprived of an apparent childhood right with the gift gifting holiday. It had been hundreds of years since someone gave him a gift simply to just _give_ it - Milah was the last person to do so, the Yuletide before her death - and he felt a strong urge to give her everything he could.

Carefully reaching for his talking phone so as not to wake her, he let his thumb slide across the glass (the updated contraption with a complete glass screen had greatly aided his adjustment to the things), and set about researching. He knew she had said she had all she needed here in Storybrooke now but he wanted her to have everything she _wanted_ as well, even if it meant bringing a bloody tree inside the house for a month.

The next morning he saw Emma off to the station and immediately set about putting his plan into action.

He had discovered a multitude of information through the magical icon on his phone, the most important being that they hadn't missed the holiday. According to all his research Christmas was celebrated on the twenty-fifth day of the last month, leaving him just two weeks to try to bring everything together. He discreetly called the Charmings, Henry, and Regina to their house and explained the situation to them. He didn't relish the looks of pain he saw in David and Mary Margaret's eyes as they realized what joy simple decorations had brought their daughter in her childhood but what surprised him was Regina's reaction. There was genuine remorse and regret in the former Evil Queen's eyes and he was more than a little shocked when her voice was the loudest when asking what they could do.

They had quickly agreed with Emma's statement the night before that it was too risky to try to send someone over the town line so they needed to find ways to create the decorations themselves. After a brief rundown of everything they needed to cover in two weeks and Henry affectionately giving the secretive plan the code name Operation Red Swan - "We can't have an operation without a code name, Killian. It's the rules." - they set out to bring Christmas to the Savior.

While Killian went to talk to the local glass maker - coincidentally enough the same man who had made Emma's nursery mobile - about creating ornaments for trees, David was tasked with going to the candle maker where the prince promptly fell into an argument over what a candy cane smelled like. Voices were raised, candles were threatened to be turned into wax by the sheriff, and the entire operation was almost blown within the first two hours because the irate candle maker called Emma to calm her father down. Robin and Henry had immediately set out for the woods to begin searching for Christmas trees to go up around the town, an errand that was made infinitely easier with the help of the Merry Men. Mary Margaret launched into planning the Christmas dinner, another tradition Killian had read about in his research, as Regina began her own study into the holiday that was Christmas for when her magic would be needed to create something.

At first he had been a little weary about anyone else finding out but he quickly learned the rest of Storybrooke was just as enthusiastic about doing something for the Savior. Tink had shown up at his ship bright and early one morning with fifty bags of twinkling fairy lights in various colors while Ruby supplied an endless amount of red fabric to the cause. Granny had begun to knit and sew like the world was ending - an entire room on his ship held nothing but stockings, things called Christmas tree skirts, and festive dish towels - and Belle helped her father nurture red and white poinsettias that had been magically grown by a reluctant Gold in the back room of Mr. French's flower shop. Even the dwarfs were on board and had become lookouts in case Emma was heading in the direction of where Christmas making was going on.

Another item his research had shown more detail in was the present tradition Emma had briefly touched on. It seemed to be no different than giving someone something for their birthday or anniversary - instead of one person receiving a gift you bought something for each member of the family - and it was a tradition everyone had jumped on board with. He had squared the Charmings and Henry's gifts away rather quickly, making sure to hide them in one of the various nooks in his cabin to insure they didn't find them as they brought decorations to the ship. A present for Emma had taken some thought though. He wanted it to be meaningful, something that would make her remember the holiday for years to come while erasing the memory of all those presentless Christmases.

The idea finally came to him as he lay awake one night after an exhausting day of helping Robin and Henry cut down trees. Emma was lying next to him and as he watched her sleep in the dim light of the moon, he couldn't help but notice how much younger she looked when the stress of being the Savior was off her shoulders. And in that moment he knew exactly what gift to her - or rather, what _gifts_ to get her. He had went to Belle the next day and asked her to help him research some of the items, and once he actually knew what they were, had went to Regina to have her create them.

Not all his gifts to Swan were magically made but there were some that Storybrooke simply didn't have access to.

By the morning of the 24th they had everything prepared with decorations carefully stored between his ship and Regina's vault, and Killian was on edge the entire day. Emma had awoken that morning even less cheerful than normal, the smile she gave him over her coffee cup small and sad as she prepared herself for another year with no Christmas. He had barely been able to keep from blurting the entire bloody plan out as she asked him what his plans were for the day just to see that sadness leave her eyes, but Henry's firm kick to his shin beneath the kitchen table reminded him that they only had to stay silent for one more day. Emma had left for the station not long after and the second phase of Operation Red Swan had been activated.

Leroy and the Merry Men had offered to distract the Savior by causing a ruckus at the Rabbit Hole while Killian and Henry moved what would be their family's decorations into the little garden shed next to the blue house. Killian knew storing them there would be safe because Emma never ventured into it unless it was an emergency, the memory of her keeping everyone's dreamcatchers in it still too fresh for her.

Helping David distribute the rest of the Christmas decorations to the citizens of Storybrooke turned out to be harder than originally planned, mostly due to the fact that although Leroy and the Merry Men were _technically_ keeping Emma occupied, they kept accidentally bringing her across their paths, forcing the three men to take drastic steps to keep the decorations from Emma's sight. Henry had to all but shove his grandfather and stepfather into the back door of Granny's as Leroy ran past them with Emma hot on his trail, causing the two men to slide on the slippery floor and crash into the wall, quickly becoming entangled by garland and fairy lights. Another time they were on their way to deliver Gold and Belle's decorations when they had heard Emma's voice in the next alley over. While David and Henry had managed to get to the safety of Marco's house, Killian had been forced to jump over a fence, landing hard on his back amid a garden of roses as he cradled a box of carefully packed ornaments to his chest.

They had managed to get everyone's decorations to them despite all the mishaps, and when Emma came home that night exhausted from chasing Leroy and the Merry Men all day, Killian was waiting for her, propped against the headboard of their large four poster bed.

"How was your day, love?" he asked, setting the book he had been reading - one of Belle's favorites that she had loaned him - on the nightstand.

"Exhausting," Emma muttered, practically ripping her red leather jacket off. Tossing it onto the back of a chair she began working on her boots. "Leroy and the Merry Men thought it would be _hilarious_ to start a brawl at the Rabbit Hole this morning and then spend the entire day running from me."

A flash of guilt shot through him at just how exhausted she looked but all he had to do was think about the decorations in their garden shed and the look that would be on her face come morning, and the guilty voice was instantly quitened.

"I'm sorry your day was horrible, lass. Did you manage to catch them?"

Tugging her sweater over her head Emma nodded. "Eventually. All ten of them are currently spending the night in Hotel Police Station."

Watching her take her jeans off Killian had to bit the inside of his cheek knowing that however much Leroy had volunteered for the position of distracting Emma, come morning he would never hear the end of the dwarf's grumbling.

"Henry already in bed?"

"Aye, love. We had a busy day on the ship, wore the lad right out."

"That's good," Emma said, stifling a yawn as she made her way to the bed. "You know, if we lived outside Storybrooke he would be bouncing off the walls right now."

Settling further down in the bed, he held his arm out and she came willingly, instantly curling around his side. "How do you mean?"

"It's Christmas Eve in the rest of the world," she mummered, nuzzling her head against his chest as she got comfortable. "Kids want to go to bed early so they can get to the presents faster but they are so excited they end up staying up half the night anyway."

An image of a young Emma, all alone in the world save for Christmas decorations, staying up late for presents she knew would never come tugged painfully at his heart and his arm tightened around her. After tonight those memories would be replaced, thankfully.

"You sure you don't want to celebrate, Swan? It isn't too late."

"No, I'm sure Killian. Besides, it's not like I could bring Christmas to Storybrooke in one night." Tilting her head up she smiled at him sleepily. "I'd much rather just fall asleep in your arms and worry about what I'm going to do with the band of troublemakers in the morning."

Dropping a chaste kiss to her lips he whispered, "As you wish." Laying her head back down on his chest Emma waved her hand and the room was instantly enveloped in darkness, save for the moonlight that filtered in through the window. Within minutes her breathing evened out and he listened to her steady breathing for the next hour, his hand idly running up and down her arm. He knew Henry wasn't asleep but was merely waiting like him to make sure Emma was good and asleep.

When he was certain Emma wouldn't wake up he gently moved her to her side of the bed, placing his pillow behind her in case she rolled over searching for him. He took a moment to admire the beauty of the woman who had brought him out of the darkness, both literally and figuratively, as the moonlight bathed her in silver hues. If it were possible he loved her more now than when she had stormed into the Underworld for him, all red leather jacket and blonde hair, and it strengthened his resolve to give her the one thing she wanted in this world even if she was too selfless to give it to herself.

Placing a soft kiss to her forehead, he quietly left their bedroom and made his way down the hall to Henry's room, careful not to step on the floor boards he knew creaked. Within seconds of his light knock Henry's door opened, revealing the teenager still dressed in his pajamas and an excited grin already on his face.

Without a word they crept downstairs to initiate the final phase of Operation Red Swan.

* * *

Opening her eyes, Emma groaned against the morning sun streaming in through the bedroom window and instinctively burrowed her face into her pillow. She did _not_ want to get up in the slightest after spending the previous day chasing that damn dwarf and Robin's band of anything but merry men around town. It wasn't unheard of for Leroy to start the occasional bar brawl but yesterday he had taken it to Will Scarlet level, causing not one but _two,_ and then actually running from her when she came to throw his grumpy ass into a cell. She had been in no mood for any of their shenanigans yesterday, wanting to simply work her shift and get home so she could get through today, another year without Christmas, faster.

She had resigned herself to the fact she would never celebrate the holiday again but memories of Christmases past still tugged at her, reminding her of one of the things she had given up when she crossed the town line all those years ago. She tried her best not to let it show and for the most part it was easy since the holiday wasn't celebrated in Storybrooke in any form or fashion, but she would be lying to herself if she said this year hadn't been the hardest. It was something about having a home of her own now, of having a son and husband that suddenly made her _ache_ to wake up Christmas morning to decorations and presents with their smiling faces surrounding her. She had never wanted that more than this year but it simply wasn't in the cards for the Savior.

Sighing, knowing she was unlikely to fall back asleep for even a short time, she rolled over and was surprised to find her husband fast asleep next to her. Killian was usually the first awake in their house, centuries of rising with dawn ingrained into his very being and she couldn't remember another time when she had awoken to find him still sleeping. He was facing her, hair falling over his forehead in a way that made him look so much younger, almost boyish. He was fast asleep, chest rising and falling with each steady breath, and not for the first time since she rescued him from the Underworld she was thankful that he was still with her.

She may not have the old comfort of Christmas decorations anymore but they didn't compare to the comfort simply being in his arms brought her.

Their journey hadn't been an easy one, fraught with wicked witches, darkness, Hades, and even her own walls but it was a journey she would take a thousand times over to arrive back at this moment. He had been so understanding when she finally confessed why this time of year brought her down and she hoped he really did understand that all she needed now was him, Henry, and her family. _Family…._ Emma smiled at the thought, her mind instantly going to the present she had for him tucked away at the back of their closet. She had wanted to give it to him yesterday but with Leroy causing mayhem and him being busy on his ship, there had been no time. She couldn't wait to give it to him though, to see him connect the dots and the absolute love she knew would be shining out of his eyes.

Lunch. She would give it to him when she came home for lunch today.

Wanting to let him sleep in since he never did Emma quietly got up, trying not to make any noise since her pirate was the lightest of sleepers. Tiptoeing to the closet, she quickly donned one of his old pirate shirts and a pair of red pajama pants to ward off the slight chill in the house and made her way downstairs. She was so engrossed in daydreaming about his reaction to his present that upon entering her kitchen she didn't take her surroundings in until she was halfway to the coffee pot. The vase of dark red poinsettias brought her to a sudden stop, her mind going blank for a second as she tried to process what she was seeing.

She hadn't seen poinsettias since the Christmas before she came to Storybrooke and she knew they certainly didn't grow in the magical town. Blinking her eyes in confusion she looked around the kitchen, taking in the familiar room now peppered with new items. Her duck salt and pepper shakers were gone, replaced with - _were those Santa and Mrs. Claus salt and pepper shakers?_ Glittering red snowflakes hung from the small chandelier above her kitchen table, sparkling as the sun hit them and she was certain that was Christmas themed hand towels laid reverently on the handle of the oven.

 _What the hell-_

Turning to head back upstairs to find out what was going on, Emma's eyes went wide as she took in her living room. What looked like red Christmas lights was wrapped around garland and hung around every feasible doorway. Blue, green, and white candles sat throughout the room, creating the unmistakable smells of pine and cinnamon while snowglobes of varying size had been placed carefully along the shelves of their bookcase. The little writing desk beneath the birch forest picture had been cleared of its normal paper clutter and a small Christmas village now sat atop it. The fireplace mantle was draped with garland and lights, and from little hooks hung three stockings - a plush white one that reminded her of a Swan's feathers, an almost velvet red one with black embroidery along its length, and a patchwork one at the end with swatches of red, green, blue, and gold throughout it.

But it was the sight in front of her bay window that had her truly stunned.

The breakfast table where they held family game night had been moved, replaced with a large seven foot tree that nestled perfectly into the little nook. It was covered in red and green glass ornaments with a sprinkling of what looked like personal ones - her eyes instantly landed on the figurine of a white Swan resting front and center - and the white lights weaved among its massive branches seemed to illuminate the tree from within. A silver star sat at the top, shining brightly as the morning sun caught its glass surface. But what really gave her pause was the presents beneath the tree. They were wrapped in red, green, and white paper, complete with intricate bows and there was so many of them they spilled out from beneath the tree, creating a mini mountain to the side.

Christmas…. Christmas had somehow come to Storybrooke.

"KILLIAN!"

* * *

Ripped from sleep by the sound of Emma shouting his name and fearing a new villain was attacking them, Killian sprung from their bed, his foot catching on the oversized comforter Emma insisted on having. He barely stopped himself from face planting the floor and was halfway down the hallway when his sleep adeled brain caught up. _Right, no new enemy. Your wife just discovered her living room in a state that she most certainly did not leave it in the night before._

The sound of a door opening had him turning to see a similar distressed Henry running from his room, baseball bat in hand. His stepson skidded to a halt in the short hallway, blinking in confusion at him before he also remembered the reason his mother would be shouting.

They had both been up until nearly four getting the house ready - admittedly the tinsel war they had while decorating the tree might have contributed to their late night - and suddenly the three hours of sleep they had managed to grab didn't seem like enough to prepare themselves for this. Killian could see his own emotions reflected in Henry's dark eyes - What if she hated it? What if she really had been okay with leaving this holiday in the past? Did they make a mistake?

"Killian! Henry!"

Killian sighed, clasping Henry's shoulder. "Well lad, time to face the music as you always say."

Henry nodded reluctantly and leaning the bat against the wall, followed his stepfather down the stairs. Emma was stood in the living room and if he wasn't so worried about her reaction, Killian would have admired how utterly adorable she looked standing there in red checkered pajama pants and one of his pirate shirts, blonde locks messy from sleep. Instead all he could focus on was her face and that for the first time since they climbed a beanstalk, he couldn't read her.

She turned towards them. "What is this?"

"It's ah-" Killian began, reaching up to scratch behind his ear as nerves settled in his stomach. "It's Christmas decorations, love."

"I can see that. Where did they come from?"

"From us," Henry supplied, and Killian couldn't help but feel a rush of pride at how even when worried about his mother's reaction, the lad stood by his actions. "It was Killian's idea, the rest of us just pitched in to make it happen."

Emma looked from her son to her husband, blinking in confusion. "Killian's idea?"

Killian nodded. "Aye, love. After you told me of the importance these decorations had to you I- I felt like they needed to be brought to Storybrooke. I met with your parents and from there we planned everything." When she said nothing, continuing to stare at him with that unreadable expression, Killian moved. Maybe if he showed her all the little details that had went into this she wouldn't be mad that he had went against her wishes.

Walking towards her before he could change his mind, he let his hand wrap gently around her waist and steered her toward the writing desk with Henry following them. "I did a fair amount of research on the topic of Christmas after our talk and one of the items I discovered that is essential to any home during this holiday is a tiny replica of a village."

He watched her eyes fall to the village spread out on the desk before them, taking in the magically lighted buildings covered in snow. It wasn't a traditional Christmas village but one made to look like Storybrooke, a detail that he and Henry had come up with one morning over hot chocolate and rum. It had Regina's mansion with a snow covered apple tree sat behind it, a snowman sat outside Gold's pawn shop, and Granny's diner, complete with a mini Christmas tree in the middle of the diner's patio. The police station was there as well with what he hoped was a realistic Santa sleigh atop it and perched on the highest point of the village was a perfect replica of their blue home, white Christmas lights decorating its exterior.

He had to hand it to Marco, the man had created a beautiful version of their little town.

"And these," Henry quickly pointed out, clearly catching on to what Killian was trying to do, "Are our stockings." Leading Emma to the fireplace he listened to Henry describe how they had opted for personal ones - conveniently leaving out the story of how his stepfather and grandfather had broken into the fabric shop to obtain the feather-like material for Emma's stocking after the shop's owner had tried to sell it to them for an outrageous price. Emma still hadn't said a word, even when she stepped forward to finger the soft material of her own stocking, and Killian shot Henry a worried look.

Reaching for one of the many candles around the room he held it out to her, trying desperately not to look into the fact that her eyes moved from the stockings to the candle without ever glancing at him. "I remember you mentioning they were your favorite part of this holiday, love, and with our local candlemaker I think we were able to replicate them." Needing to see her smile he added jokingly, "Just don't ask your father what a candy cane smells like. You'll get an hour long speech and possibly some broken furniture."

His heart sank when Emma's lips didn't twitch in the slightest at his witty remark. This was a horrible idea. In fact, he had probably made the situation worse for her and he could kick himself…

Emma looked up from the candle then, green eyes glittering with unshed tears. "You did this?"

Bloody hell he had really buggered this one. "Swan, I'm sorry. I just thought-"

"You brought Christmas to Storybrooke…. for me?"

"Aye," he whispered.

A single tear fell down her cheek. "Why?"

Shaking his head in confusion he immediately responded, "Because it's something you wanted, Swan. You may have had everything you needed, but you deserve to have everything you want and so much more."

Emma surged forward then, wrapping her arms around his neck as their lips met. The kiss was brief and he pulled back to look down at her.

"You aren't mad?"

"Mad?" she tearfully whispered, bringing her free hand up to cup his cheek. "You brought me Christmas, Killian. How could I ever be mad at you?"

He grinned. "So you like it?"

"Like it?" Emma laughed, "Killian, I _love_ it. It's- it's perfect." Turning to look at Henry she added, "Both of you did an amazing job."

"Wasn't just us," Henry teased, smiling broadly at the look of confusion on his mother's face. "The whole town helped, mom."

Killian could see the awe in her eyes at the boy's words. "The whole town?"

"Aye," he said, smiling, "The entire town wanted to help, love."

Fresh tears gathered in her eyes and he wordlessly pulled her into his arms, his hold tightening when he heard her sniffle against his henley. As someone who had been abandoned multiple times in his own life and had one day found people willing to do anything for him, he understood the emotion his wife was experiencing. He had felt it on the day they found him in the Underworld. The happiness of seeing Emma again had been buried beneath the overwhelming knowledge that she wasn't the only one who had come to save him, that the pirate who had spent centuries thinking he was alone in the world in fact had a multitude of people who cared about him.

Emma may have found her family and home years ago but his Swan was only now truly realising what those people were willingly to do for her.

With a final sniffle Emma pulled back and Killian tenderly wiped at the tear paths on her cheeks as Henry moved toward the kitchen to prepare their morning hot chocolate mugs.

"I'll never be able to truly thank you for this, Killian."

He smiled down at her. "The look of happiness on your face is thanks enough, love."

Leaning up to place a chaste kiss to his lips Emma then sat the candle back down before turning to the Christmas tree and the mountain of presents spilling out from beneath its branches. "Just please tell me all those aren't for me because it looks like you raided every store in Storybrooke."

Killian chuckled. "Not all of them but a vast majority are."

She looked at him and he could see an excited glint in her green eyes. "So can we open them?"

"Not until-" the ringing of a doorbell interrupted him and he smiled knowingly at her. "Perhaps you should get that, Swan."

Emma knitted her brow in confusion but moved toward their front door, Killian close behind her. Running her hands through her hair to bring it under some control she opened the door, swinging it wide and he heard the quiet gasp that escaped his wife at the sight that greeted her. Stood on their front porch was the Charmings, a squirming Neal in his mother's arms as David tried to hang on to an enormous sack thrown over his shoulder. Robin and Regina were behind them, Roland and his baby sister, Elphaba or Eli as they all called her, each holding one of Robin's hands.

"Wha- What are you guys doing here?" Emma asked, completely rooted in the doorway as she surveyed the faces of her family.

"It's Christmas!" Mary Margaret responded, smiling as if that was answer enough.

When Emma continued to stare at them in shock Regina rolled her eyes. "Can we take the twenty questions inside, Mrs. Jones? It _is_ rather cold out here."

Emma immediately moved to the side and everyone filed in, unwrapping scarves and unbuttoning jackets. David went straight for the Christmas tree and deposited the large sack, Emma's eyes going wide as she saw the unmistakable sight of wrapping paper peeking out from its top. Turning to her husband she asked, "What's going on?"

Killian shrugged innocently before wrapping his arm around her waist. "We can't open presents without the entire family, love."

Henry appeared then, handing off two mugs of hot chocolate, one with whip cream and cinnamon to his mother and stepfather. "There's hot chocolate on the stove if anyone else wants some."

A chorus of yesses sounded, none more louder than Roland, and as Robin and Henry disappeared into the kitchen to make more Killian gently steered Emma toward their couch. David and Mary Margaret sat in chairs Killian and Henry had pulled over to the living room area the night before while Regina rested primly on the rug, trying in vain to keep Roland and Eli away from the mountain of gifts. Henry and Robin returned shortly, trays of hot chocolate in hand, and settled down on the floor.

"Everyone ready to start opening presents?" Henry asked excitedly.

Killian watched Emma take everything in, slowly sipping her hot chocolate as David began handing out presents. He could tell she was still awestruck from the knowledge that the entire town had pitched in to do this and there was a glimmer of an old wound being healed within those green eyes at the sound of laughter around her. This was what she should have had as a child - surrounded by loved ones, opening more presents than she would ever know what to do with - and he would do everything in his power for the rest of his days to have that small, happy smile on her lips.

When all the presents had been handed out - he could tell Emma was in shock at the size of her pile which was by far the largest in the room - Henry declared it time to unwrap them and the room was instantly filled with the sounds of paper being torn. Emma seemed to hesitate for a minute, her fingers trailing over a small box from her parents and Killian gave her another encouraging smile, one she fully returned.

Shouts of delight echoed throughout the room as gifts were revealed. Regina was brought to tears at a necklace from Robin that bore three apples, each one inscribed with one of the kid's names. Mary Margaret almost fell out of her chair in her haste to hug David when she unwrapped the little blown glass bird from him. David and Robin both laughed at their gifts from Killian - matching flasks, with the prince's crest on his and a replica of Robin's lion tattoo on the former thief's flask. As the children began to play with the toys they had received Killian took stock of his own gifts - a couple shirts in that checkered pattern Emma loved so much from Mary Margaret, a new spyglass from Henry, adventure novels from Dave, and a warmer blanket for the bed on the Jolly Roger from Regina and Robin.

He turned to look at Emma to see her staring at a half opened present in confusion. "Everything okay, Swan?"

Emma removed the present, revealing it to be a coloring book of this world's version of the town's princesses. "I think I accidentally got Eli's gift."

Killian hummed in contemplation before nudging the box with his hook. "I don't know, I think you missed an item in there." He watched as Emma dug beneath the brightly colored paper within the box, her confusion only mounting when she pulled out a box of crayons.

"I don't understand," she mumbled, once again looking at him.

"I believe it's what they call a coloring book in this world, Swan, and every little girl should have one… don't you agree?"

He saw the moment it dawned for her, her jaw dropping a little as her gaze moved between him and the book.

"When I was telling you about Christmas… You got me a coloring book?"

"Aye," he replied, waiting for her to look at him again before continuing. "You never had one as a child and I felt that needed to be remedied."

"Killian…"

He nodded toward the few presents she hadn't opened. "There's more, love."

Setting the coloring book and crayons on the coffee table almost reverently next to the gifts she had received from everyone else she picked up the medium sized package and began to slowly open it. As soon as the first paper tear revealed what was inside she let out a strangled sob. When she had shredded all the carefully taped paper she looked at him, eyes glittering with fresh tears.

"It's an easy bake oven," she whispered tearfully, trying to keep the tears from falling and failing.

"It's what you wanted when you were little, correct?"

Emma nodded wordlessly, hugging the box close to her chest. "It's all I wished for when I was seven."

Killian smiled at her. "I know it doesn't have much use now-"

"Killian, it's perfect."

Moving so he could gently take the box from her tight embrace he mumbled, "There's one more."

She was reluctant to let the small oven go but she did, wiping at her cheeks before picking up the last gift. Her fingers trembled as she undid the large red bow around it, slowly unwrapping it and an excited gasp fell from her lips as the paper fell away. A jacket sat perfectly folded in her lap, cut in the same design as her favorite red one, only in black leather.

"I know how much you love your other jacket, love, but I thought a new one-"

He was cut off by the press of her lips against his and threading his fingers through her hair he returned it, ignoring Regina's groan and David's mumbled, "Must they do that in front of me?". When they pulled apart her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright as she stared at him.

"You've given me so much Killian and I don't have any gifts for you."

Tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear he smiled gently. "Again, seeing that look on your face is gift enough, Swan. You'll just have to spoil me next year."

She laughed. "Because shopping for a 300-year-old pirate is-" she paused, eyes alighting as something clearly came to her. Sitting her jacket on top of her small mountain of presents she stood, holding up a hand when Killian started to follow. "Wait here."

One dark eyebrow rose as he watched her dash up the stairs, blonde hair flowing behind her. He looked to Henry, wondering what on Earth his wife could be up to but his stepson simply shrugged, clearly confused by his mother's behavior as well. Minutes later Emma came bounding down the stairs with a simple white bag in her hand. Once again sitting beside him on the couch, she handed it to him.

"Open it," she whispered, breathless from her run.

He studied the bag as his fingers played with the soft paper sticking out of it. He was certain she hadn't learned of Operation Red Swan, so how had she had a gift ready for him?

"Swan-"

"I swear I didn't know you were planning any of this," she interrupted, gesturing to the decorations around them, "This was- well, I was going to give it to you at lunch today."

He nodded. "So it's just an every day gift, yes?"

Emma smiled. "Something like that. Now open it!"

Not one to keep a lady waiting Killian stuck his hand in the bag, wrapping his fingers around the small object inside before withdrawing his hand. He frowned in confusion. It was about the size of this realm's writing implements, slightly wider, and had a brightly colored purple end. Two little windows sat at its center, one circular and one square, and each had a blue line in them although the circular one held two that formed the shape of a cross. He had no idea what the object he held was but clearly those around him knew if Henry's "Whoop!" and Mary Margaret's excited gasp was any indication.

"Swan, I don't understand-"

"There's one more," she gently whispered and for the first time since she had left to retrieve the bag he noticed how nervous she was, her hands practically wringing the material of his pirate shirt. Frowning and wondering what gift she could have gotten him that would be making her nervous, his hand went back into the bag, this time touching something soft. Pulling it out he studied the small article of clothing with the same concentration he used when mapping a course. It looked to be one of those outfits little Neal was always wearing - hadn't David called it a onesie? - and was black with white lettering on its front that spelled out _My daddy is Captain Hook_.

He stilled as he read the words over and over again, the realisation of what they meant hitting him so hard he stopped breathing. Jerking his head up he looked at his wife who was biting her lip in an attempt not to smile.

"Emma… does this mean…"

The blonde Savior nodded. "I'm pregnant," she whispered, no longer able to hide her smile. Feeling tears of happiness well in his own eyes he surged forward to kiss her passionately as those around them exploded in cheers, Dave louder than even Mary Margaret. When lack of oxygen forced them apart he rested his forehead against hers, bringing his hand down to rest gently over where their child lay.

"Merry Christmas, Swan."

Her smile was radiant. "Merry Christmas, Killian."

(The next year as Emma hung a baby blue stocking beside Henry's patchwork one, she couldn't help but smile. For so long the decorations of this time of year had been her one constant, a reminder that they were the only thing she could count on. Turning to watch Henry hang a ornament on their large tree, Killian helping him as their four month old son lay in his hooked arm fast asleep, she thought of how they no longer meant that to her. Now they were simply decorations, items that were packed away and brought out each year to herald in the holiday season).

(She had people to count on now, family she knew would always have her back, and a pirate who would go to any length to simply make her smile - even by bringing Christmas to their sleepy little fairytale town).


End file.
